


Incommunicado

by angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-31
Updated: 2011-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:25:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel/pseuds/angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets into a fight at a biker bar and lands in the ICU on a ventilator, much to Sam's chagrin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Incommunicado

_Hisssss Wooooosh_

Sam decided on a new rule. Dean got to say that he was alright three times and only three times before Sam dragged his ass to the nearest hospital, urgent care facility or veterinarian's office for a check-up. 

_Hisssss Wooooosh_

The hunt hadn't been going perfectly from the beginning, but when did they ever. Dean had been fighting a bit of a cold since they'd spent a night in the snow trying to dig up the bones of some southern belle bitch who'd been haunting a small town in North Carolina. She'd been appearing in the middle of the road – coincidentally that's where she'd been killed when she'd been trying to escape an abusive father in the 1800s – and causing people to run off said road right into a massive oak tree. Two killed and over a dozen injured before the Winchesters had gotten to town.

_Hisssss Wooooosh_

They'd lit the southern belle's bones up in record time and headed out of town. Dean had been driving, pretending that he was alright, but Sam could tell that this cold was starting to kick his big brother's ass. He'd made the innocent suggestion of stopping at the next bar, grabbing a beer and some chili-cheese fries for dinner. Dean had immediately agreed, claiming that all he ever needed was some booze and greasy food. Best medicine on Earth, Sammy.

_Hisssss Wooooosh_

Less than an hour later, Dean had been shoved against the wall of the bar while some neanderthal biker literally choked the life out of him. Sam didn't even hear whatever asinine comment Dean had made, but the biker had seriously taken offense. By the time Sam, the bartender, and three of the biker's buddies had separated the two, Dean had passed out and was wheezing through what remained of his trachea. 

_Hisssss Wooooosh_

“Mr. Hendrix?” The nurse's voice startled Sam out of his thoughts. She had been on shift when Dean had been admitted to the ICU a few days ago, and it took Sam a moment to remember that her name was Joan. She was just south of forty with a no-nonsense attitude but a soft heart. Dean was going to love her when he finally opened his eyes and came back to the world.

“Sam,” he said, repeating what he'd already told her many times. “Please call me Sam.”

“I tried that and you didn't answer,” she said. “Are you okay? Have you gotten any rest?”

Sam shrugged. “Couple hours here and there. How's he doing?”

Joan checked the monitors and Dean's chart. “He's about the same, but Dr. Hudson is going to be here in a few minutes to move the ventilator tube.”

“Move it? Move it where?” Sam asked, looking over at his brother. The ventilator tube was sticking out of Dean's mouth, pulling his lips into what Sam was sure was an uncomfortable position.

“Into his throat.” Joan indicated hollow of Dean's throat, just above his clavicle. “It's starting to swell again.”

“What? Why?” Sam asked, concerned.

Before Joan could answer, Dr. Hudson strolled through the door. His graying hair was starting to thin on top, but he was still as confident and cocky as the day he earned his M.D. license. Sam hated him.

“Dean's fighting an infection; his temperature's been spiking, but now we're concerned. I want him to have a more stable airway, just in case.” Dr. Hudson gave Sam the facts as he gave Dean a quick exam.

“In case of what?” Sam hated feeling out of control, and ever since he'd brought Dean into the emergency room, blue-lipped and barely gasping for breath, he'd been completely helpless.

“It's just a precaution, Sam,” Joan said. “Go and get something to eat, try to rest. I'll call you if anything changes.”

Sam nodded. He couldn't go with Dean for the procedure, and it was useless to argue with Joan. He'd run down to the cafeteria for a sandwich and some coffee before grabbing a cat nap in the ICU waiting room. Same thing he did every time they kicked him out of Dean's room.

Three days later, Sam was pretty much at the end of what little sanity he had left. Dean's infection was under control, and the doctors had eased back on the medication, but he wasn't waking up. Talk had turned to possible brain damage from a lack of oxygen, but Sam refused to believe that Dean was permanently damaged in any way. 

He was just taking his sweet ass time to mess with Sam, which was arguably the older brother's favorite hobby. 

“This isn't funny anymore, Dean,” Sam hissed when he couldn't take the near silence any longer. If he had to listen to the damn hiss whoosh of the ventilator any longer, he was going to start throwing things. “Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

Joan quirked an eyebrow as she walked into the room. “Everything alright, Sam?”

“He's not waking up,” Sam grumbled, embarrassed that he'd been caught in a bit of a tantrum.

“Just give him some time.”

“He's had days,” Sam replied. “Too long...” he trailed off as he felt a Dean's fingers close around his a moment before the monitors went crazy.

Dean had come to abruptly. One second, he'd been out, and the next, Sam had been yelling in his ear about waking up. That was pretty damn annoying, but then he'd realized that his chest was rising and falling on its own, that he wasn't controlling the simple act of his own breathing. 

His eyes popped open, but the light was too bright, and everything was too blurry for him to get a handle on exactly where he was. He opened and closed his mouth but didn't feel the tell-tale plastic of a breathing tube, which was weird. He tried to call out to Sam, but no sound came out. Then, there was someone holding him down, and his panic ratcheted up past level orange.

“Damn,” Joan said, grabbing a syringe out of the cart by Dean's bedside. She uncapped the needle with her teeth while she searched through the drawers for the right sedative.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, leaning over his brother and pushing both hands against Dean's shoulders to keep him on the bed. “Calm down. Everything's okay. You're okay. Just calm down.”

Dean's mouth worked but no sound came out. Sam knew what Dean was saying though – voice or no voice. Dean was repeating his little brother's name over and over.

“I'm okay,” Sam answered the unnecessary question. “You're okay. Just calm down.”

Joan had finally found the proper sedative and was about to administer the dose when Sam reached out to stop her. 

“He's calming down. Give him a minute,” Sam said.

Sure enough, Dean's heart rate was dropping steadily and his ventilator wasn't alarming as he had stopped fighting it for the moment. 

Joan had never seen anything like it. She'd had plenty of patients pass through her ICU, but none of them had ever been able to wake while intubated and calm themselves from the helpless panic.

“See? Everything's fine,” Sam said, sitting back down. He was careful to stay within Dean's sight though. 

Dean's mouth moved, and he was frustrated that no matter how hard he tried, no sound would emerge.

“Stop trying to talk,” Sam chastised gently.

Dean's hand found Sam's and gripped it tightly - surprisingly tight for how many days he'd just been unconscious. 

Sam nodded, understanding what Dean wanted. “You were in a fight at that biker bar. I don't know what you said, man, but that guy had you pinned against the wall before I could get to you.” Sam smiled as he told the story, relieved that Dean seemed to be okay and now somewhat entertained by the circumstances behind his brother's mouth getting him into trouble yet again.

Dean rolled his eyes, not as amused as Sam was by the situation. He squeezed Sam's hand again, needing more information.

“I really don't know what you said, dude,” Sam went on. “The guy had hands bigger than my head, and he got you by the throat. Took five of us to get him off you and by then...” Sam trailed off, not wanting to go into more detail.

Dean released Sam's hand to slap his brother's bicep as hard as he could to get Sam's attention. It was his current way of saying: Stop being a whiny bitch and tell me what the hell happened.

“You were barely breathing, so I brought you here. This is Joan, by the way,” he nodded toward the nurse. “She's been taking care of you.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Dean,” Joan said, smiling at him. She couldn't believe the non-verbal communication between these two. If they were this good when only one of them could talk, she wasn't sure she wanted to see the result of two fully-voiced Hendrix brothers.

Dean barely spared her a glance before returning his attention to his brother. He looked over every inch of Sam that he could see, looking for wounds or bandages or some sign that he wasn't okay. Now that he knew the facts, Sam was his priority.

Sam rolled his eyes this time. “I'm fine, Dean. What do I have to do to prove it to you?”

Dean's finger came up and he made a twirling motion for a moment. 

Joan watched as Sam stood and made a slow 360 for Dean's benefit. Once the older brother was convinced that Sam was indeed unharmed, he quickly fell into a restful sleep. “Huh?” she said, picking up Dean's chart and making some notes.

“What?” Sam asked as he sat back down.

“I've just never seen two people who could understand each other quite like you and Dean,” she replied. “I bet it drove your parents crazy.”

Sam just smiled and shrugged, not willing to get into this conversation with the nurse now or ever.

“Well, I'd better go check on my other patients. Ring the bell if Dean needs anything, alright?”

Sam nodded as she left. It took him a few minutes to find a somewhat comfortable position in the cramped visitor's chair, but soon enough, he too was fast asleep.

~Finis

Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on 1/31/2011 as a comment fic response at the Hoodie-Time community on Livejournal. Original prompt by neonchica: I'll keep asking until I get it! Dean ends up trached and on a ventilator in the hospital (crushed larynx, intubated too long, Spinal Cord Injury - I'm not picky). If Dean thought waking up intubated was scary just wait till the damn thing's stuck through a hole in his throat! Cue Sam trying to calm him down and attempting/failing at reading Dean's lips as Dean tries desperately to communicate without a voice.


End file.
